


Stars in Your Eyes

by TitaniumKitten



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Minor Violence, dean is a prostitue, roman is a movie star
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitaniumKitten/pseuds/TitaniumKitten
Summary: Roman is just in town to do some advertising for his new movie. But when he meets Dean, his life turns upside down.
Relationships: Ambreigns, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns
Comments: 27
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> trying my hand at writing again after some serious writers block and some personal stuff. *laughs nervously* updates will be slow, but i'm determined to finish this one. Hope you guys like it.

Roman sighed as he took the elevator up to the Presidential Suite. The latest bunch of media appearances had left him a bit drained. But his agent, Sasha, rightfully insisted he marshall his way through a glut of late night talk shows. “Your name sells tickets, but your name and presence saturating media sells more,” she had insisted before adjusting his tie and wishing him luck with Conan O’Brien. On the plus side, Conan had had one of the Irwin kids there with some seriously cute baby ocelots and snuggling one against his chest had lessened a bit of his stress. Sasha had texted him afterwards to tell him that he should have kissed it on the head and caused every woman in the audience to faint, Roman rolled his eyes at that before letting the limo take him back to his hotel.

He was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t get the penthouse suite, with the added quiet and privacy it afforded, but he was only in New York for four days, so he’d live. The Presidential was at the end of a long hallway with only four other suites on the same floor still making it an opulent choice. It was weird living in such luxury after such a typical childhood in Florida, but he felt grateful for it everyday. Sure, he had worked his ass off, but there were other people who had and would never reach his level of blockbuster success. 

He ran a hand over his face, letting out a soft sigh, when a rather loud thump came from the suite to his right. He frowned. It sounded like someone pushing furniture around the room or something. He heard what almost sounded like a soft cry, then what he was certain was a punch or a slap. His eyes narrowed. There was something _wrong_ going on….he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He pressed his ear against the door. He could now hear someone growling angry words...again something that sounded like a punch. Roman’s hackles raised, someone was being abused...somehow...and the “mother hen” quality many of his buddies had joked about rushed to the fore, and without really thinking he knocked on the door.

No answer. And the noises inside the room continued

“Hey!” Roman barked. “Open up!” His fist laid into the door harder this time.

The noises stopped. A long pause. Then the door opened.

A strongly built, stocky man stood in front of him, dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt that was pushed back to the elbows. Buzzed hair, a beard and a strong nose finished off the look.

“What the hell do you want?” The man asked, his voice low and gravely.

“Sounded like a fight in there.” Roman said, suddenly feeling out of his depth

“Everything’s fine.” The man answered, starting to close the door on him.

Roman heard a soft groan of pain and quickly stuck his foot out to stop the door from closing.

“You let me in to make sure everything _is_ ok or I call the cops.”

The other man scowled and hesitated, finally opening the door and letting Roman inside.

The room lead into a lavish living room/dining room combination, an open door showing a large bedroom to the right and a powder room on the left.

“Where are they?”

“Who?” The man said, a nasty sneer crossing his face.

Roman glared at him, stomping into the bedroom and stopping abruptly as he saw him.

A naked, half conscious lanky body, messy blonde-brown-reddish curls. A split lip and blackened eye. Angry bruises around each wrist that made Roman recoil with the implication. As his eyes wandered further he felt rage grown in his chest. Bites down each hip, a red mockery of love bites. A smattering of bruises dotting each leg. Roman turned furiously to look at the perpetrator.

“What the _fuck_.” Roman growled, his voice deep and dangerous.

“He’s just a fuckin’ whore I picked up. Pimp said I could do whatever I wanted. So I did…” He answered, smirking. 

Roman tried to control himself. “I don’t care if you paid for him, you don’t treat _anyone_ like this. I’m taking him.”

“What?? I got him for another two days!” The man protested.

Roman let out a growl. “Call the cops if you’ve got a problem, asshole.” He grabbed a sheet off the bed, gently wrapping it around the battered man. His chest felt tight when the smaller man flinched. Picking him up in his arms, Roman strode out of the bedroom.

“You can’t do this!!”

“Watch me.”

Roman managed to carry the other man to his suite, laying him on the couch and looking at him with a growing panic. 

“What the fuck did I just do?”


	2. Chapter 2

Roman took a couple deep breaths. This guy needed help, still does. 

Focus.

Roman went to the phone standing on a marble end table.

“I need a large and comprehensive first aid kit. A dinner...steak...baked potato...anything else the chef has that is nourishing. I want a couple pairs of sweatpants, long sleeved t-shirts, some jeans. Size….get me everything between a 30 to a 34 waist. Of course money is no object. I want it up here within an hour. Yes. Thank you.”

Roman hung up the phone with a sigh. Being wealthy and famous had _some_ perks.

The man on the couch shifted, his eyes slowly blinking open. Roman froze a bit under the power of their startlingly blue gaze.

“H-hi…” Roman started, not sure what to say.

“Where….am I?” The man’s gruff voice send a pleasant shiver down Roman’s spine.

“Uh...I heard you and the...other guy...having a fight or something. Managed to get by him by threatening to call the cops. Saw you were in a bad way and...uh...took you back to my room.”

The man blinked. “Thanks...I guess.” He said, watching Roman warily until something clicked and his eyes widened. “You’re….”

“Roman Reigns. Yeah. And you are?”

“Uh...Ambrose. Dean Ambrose.” The man said hesitantly. “This is nuts man, why did you…..?”

“Because people being treated bad is one of my pet peeves.” Roman said simply.

“Heh. Don’t think you being seen with a whore would really up your reputation.” Dean said, his voice a little bitter.

“Hey. I don’t care what you do to get by. No one should be treated like that.” Roman said firmly. 

Dean looked at him incredulously. “Never much got the ‘white knight’ idea from you watching “Fist of Danger”.”

Roman winced. “Well, action movies aren’t exactly prime for showing one’s true personality.”

Dean managed a small chuckle. “Guess you’re right. I should...go…”

“Without any clothes on?” Roman smirked.

“Uh...shit...fuck there still in the room with that asshole.”

“I called to the desk to get some things.”

“Clothes?”

“Among other things.”

As if on queue, there was a gentle knock at the door. 

Roman strode over, opening it to show a bellhop with a tray loaded with food, several behind him carrying a first aid kit and clothes.

“Thank you, I’ll take it from here.” Roman said firmly, handing them each a hundred for a tip.

Dean eyed the tray of food as Roman pushed it to the couch.

“I hope some of that is for me?”

“It all is. Dig in.” Roman answered indulgently.

“Thanks...I….I’m not sure why you’re being so decent.”

“Because you didn’t deserve to get hurt. And because I want too.”

“You usually take in strays?” Dean asked softly, a small smile hovering at his lips.

“Sometimes. Please. Eat. Then if you want, you can take a shower and we can...treat some of those cuts.”

Dean nodded slowly, an unreadable look on his face as he started eating.

Roman’s “mother hen” side felt pleased watching Dean eat avidly. The man was way too skinny and an echo of his mother’s voice “Eat up, you’re just skin and bones” made him smile. 

Dean burped gently as he finished eating. “I’ll uh...take that shower now…” He said, wandering to the bathroom with the bed sheet still wrapped around him.

“Seriously, what the fuck am I doing…” Roman murmured softly to himself once Dean was in the bathroom. But something in that small smile, the hint of dimples, let him know that if he was being honest with himself, he was way over his head.

* * *

Roman sat on the couch, flipping through the TV channels nervously as Dean walked out of the bathroom. Jeans clung to his muscular thighs and dipped a little low on his slim waist. A long sleeved black v neck shirt finished the look. 

“Hey.” Roman said softly.

Dean gave him a tentative smile. “T-thanks again. I….should get going.”

“You can stay.” Roman said a little too quickly. 

Dean gave him a look.

“I...I mean there’s a guest bedroom.” Roman clarified, a slight flush crossing his cheeks.

“Oh.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I just….no one has ever been this nice to me before. It’s kinda makin’ me nervous.”

“I...yeah. I guess this is way weirder for you than it even is for me.” Roman said with a chuckle. “Look. I don’t want anything from you. Seriously. I just...you were having a real bad time of it and I’ve got more money and more room here then I can do anything with. I’ve had plenty of people help me out before I was _Roman Reigns_....just...paying it forward I guess.”

Dean nodded slowly. “I guess….I get that. And I mean...if ya want to buy me more delicious food I guess I’d be a fool to say no.” He grinned, the dimples on full display.

“I think that’s a good way to look at it.” Roman said with a laugh.

“No one is gonna believe me. They’ll say I’m the biggest liar on the damn planet.” Dean shook his head, amused.

“Hey...how about you get some rest. I promise a delicious pile of food in the morning for breakfast.”

“Sounds amazing. You’re on, Reigns.”

“Call me Roman.”

“Sure thing. Call me Dean.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

“G’night Roman….this is surreal as hell.”

Roman chuckled. “Guest room is the door right there.” 

Dean nodded, giving Roman a sloppy salute before disappearing into the room.

Roman watched him, a somewhat goofy grin on his face.

“Get it together, Reigns.” He grumbled to himself as he stomped off to his room, falling into a fitful sleep.

Dean thoroughly inspected the guest room and bounced on the bed a little, unable to fully comprehend how damn comfy the mattress was. Eventually he fell into a deep, healing sleep, wondering what fairytale he had fallen into.


	3. Chapter 3

The late morning had Dean waking to the smell of coffee and bacon.

“Mph.” He moaned, awkwardly sliding out of bed and shambling into the living/dining room of the suite like a zombie.

Roman looked up from his newspaper and chuckled. “You alright there, man?”

“Coffee…” Zombie Dean moaned, grabbing the carafe and pouring a generous cup. Romans eyebrow raised as Dean emptied practically half the sugar container into the cup. 

Dean's orgasmic sigh of happiness after taking a sip made Roman go a little pink in the cheeks. After downing the cup Dean had another, then inhaled some eggs, bacon and toast.

“Slow down. You're gonna choke.” Roman said, amused.

“Gotta take advantage of unexpected opportunities.” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon.

Roman chuckled. “I guess that's true. But don't let those opportunities kill you either.”

Dean acknowledged this with a wave of his fork and slightly slowed down.

“So. I've got some more media to do today. Got Good Morning America and a couple radio shows. You're….youre welcome to stay while I'm gone….get room service or whatever…”

Dean perked up with a troublemaker smile.

“Within _reason_.” Roman clarified.

“Aww. You're no fun.” Dean griped, a smile hovering at his lips.

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna come back to having the cops swarming my hotel room.” Roman answered wryly.

“Hey, you’ve done a lot for me...I ain’t gonna fuck stuff up for ya.” Dean says, getting a bit serious.

Roman gave him a small smile and they lapsed into silence, Dean continuing to eat. It was an oddly comforting silence, Roman thought. He’d known Dean only about 8 hours, but he felt as comfortable with him as with his cousins. 

‘’Get it together, Reigns!’ He thought to himself

Dean finally finished eating, glancing up at Roman. “You sure you’re ok with letting me crash here?”

“Yeah...I dunno...you seem like the honest type.”

“Even though I’m a whore?” Dean said with a snort.

“Not even though….I’m pretty damn good at reading people. And sex workers are just like anyone else, some are good people, some bad.”

“So I’m one of the good ones?” Dean asked, a smile hovering on his lips.

“As long as you behave while I’m gone…” Roman said with a teasing grin.

Dean laughed. “Alright _dad_. I’ll behave.”

“Good. I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

Roman stood up, getting on his suit jacket.

“Lookin’ good, Reigns…” Dean said with a smirk.

Roman blushed as he stammered a thanks and escaped out the door.

Dean looked around the hotel room, feeling oddly alone considering he lived a pretty solitary life. Roman had a warm personality that filled the room, and it felt a little colder now that he was gone.

“Fuck...I gotta call Seth...he’s gonna kill me…” Dean poked around for his phone before realizing it was probably back in the room with the John that had bought him. He debated for a few minutes before opting to peek out the door. 

“I musta got a guardian angel somehow.” He muttered, seeing a cleaning woman in the process of rolling her cart into the John’s room. 

He slipped out of Roman’s room, putting a pillow in the door so it wouldn’t lock, before sauntering down the hall.

“Hey there.” He said with a big grin when the cleaning woman poked a head out of the bathroom at hearing him come in

“Sorry sir I knocked…”

“No worries, just forgot my phone..” He answered. After some searching he was able to find his phone and the clothes he had been picked up in. A nod to the cleaning woman and he made his escape, neatly shutting the door to Roman’s room behind himself.

Flopping back down on the couch, he sighed before flipping open his phone and making the call.

“Dean...where the fuck are you? Hunter’s a big spender and you ditch him?” Came a nasal, angry voice through the phone.

Dean winced. “I had no choice. He beat me all to hell and R-...I mean a good Samaritan knocked on the door and pulled me out. Wasn’t even with it until it was done.”

“A ‘good Samaritan’?” Seth yelled. “What the fuck...that Samaritan better have a big fuckin’ wallet. We’ll probably lose Hunter for good even if I throw him a couple free blow jobs.”

Dean held back the “good” that welled up in his throat at Seth’s words. “Look….the guy that helped me is loaded...even let me hang in his room till he’s back from a...business meeting. Big softie. I’m sure I could sob story a couple grand outta the guy without even getting naked.”

“With what I’ve lost from Hunter you better come back with five grand. Or what Hunter did to you is gonna feel like child's play. You know Heyman isn’t in the business of charity. And neither am I.”

Dean swallowed on a dry throat. “Yeah...yeah I know. I’m good for it. Tell Heyman I’m fucking good for it, ok? Probably need the rest of today. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I can get you that much time I think. But I’m sure as hell not putting my neck out for you.” Seth snapped.

“I get it. I’ll have it.” Dean promised. “I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

Seth grunted and hung up.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”


	4. Chapter 4

Roman’s interview with Good Morning America went off without a hitch and he actually had enough time to head by Du’s Donuts and eat a couple brown butter key lime ones. He knew he’d have to work out extra, but the second he swallowed his first bite he remembered how worth it it was. Sasha had met him at the Good Morning America studio and indulgently watched him inhale the donuts.

“Slow down, babe.” She chuckled, sipping her coffee.

“I haven’t had these in two years, back off.” Roman grumbled between bites

“So, how’d your night go. Per the tabloids I know you didn’t go to Gwyneth’s party like I wanted you to.” She said reprovingly.

“The lady sells jade eggs to stick up a woman’s hooha, of course I didn’t go.” Roman said moodily. He _shouldn’t_ tell her about Dean...she’d freak and make him throw the guy on the streets. 

Sasha giggled. “Well, a few well placed pictures would have helped. The party was a fundraiser to bring Goop products to disadvantaged communities.”

“Yeah, ‘cause all some woman working three jobs wants is a ten thousand dollar yurt and a rock to stick up her vagina.”

Sasha spluttered in her coffee. “Behave, you never know when paparazzi are around. Hmm...but maybe a bit of random drama between you and her would get some good attention…”

Roman groaned. “Don’t you start with all that. I suffered through that fabricated beef with Bieber. I’ve had enough…”

“Alright, alright…” Sasha held up her hands defensively. 

Roman triumphantly finished the last bite of donut. “I’m going back to the hotel. No bothering me until Kimmel tonight..”

“Ok Mr. Grumpy pants.” She grinned, gulping down the last of her coffee. “Go unwind.”

“I will...thank you.” Roman said, softening his tone and giving her a grin back.

* * *

He took the limo back to the hotel, right leg bouncing nervously. What if Dean had left….what if he had misread him and he was off to polish up his story for the highest paying tabloid...what if...he shook his head, giving a sigh. He’d know soon enough.

Opening the door to his hotel room, Roman strode in. He blinked.

“What the…..”

There was what looked like a...blanket fort...over the couch in the living room. He could just see Dean’s face peeking out of it a little, a huge bowl of popcorn next to him. The loud scream of what was probably a young co-ed being stabbed by a masked killer of some kind came from the tv. Dean’s face disappeared into the ford with a small squeak.

“You ok there, man?” Roman asked, amused that such a rough and tumble looking guy would get scared at a cheesy horror flick.

Dean’s head peered out from the fort. “This shit is scary man! I don’t usually watch this stuff but it’s got a cameo by Kane and you don’t say no to a cameo by Kane.”

Roman laughed, sitting down on one of the chairs facing the tv. “The wrestler?”

Dean nodded

“....And the blanket fort?”

“I dunno. Seemed like the thing to do. They’re pretty fun, ya know? Never had one as a kid so figured why not now…” Dean sounded a little sheepish.

“Well it’s pretty fucking cute.” Roman answered before he could stop himself. 

Dean half emerged from the fort. “Oh yeah?” He said with a troublemaker grin.

Roman went a little pink. “Don’t push it. So you watched movies all day?”

“Mostly. Prowled the hallways a bit, did a Jane Fonda exercise video I found on the tv, kinda gorged myself…”

“Good. My mom would have had you 20 pounds heavier by now.”

“Ah, one of those moms.” Dean nodded sagely

“Mmmhmm. Italian and all that comes with it.”

“Sounds nice. Had a shitty dad, but my mom tried.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Dean shrugged. “Is what it is. He’s in jail now, couldn’t happen to a better guy. Mom’s recovering after remission. Stomach cancer. Try to do what I can for her.”

“I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“Yeah, so am I. Getting her through the treatment...wasn’t easy.” Dean said softly.

It suddenly dawns on Roman that his heroics might have had some unintended consequences.

“I um….I know you’d rather be away from that asshole...but you’re not...I mean...I didn’t get you in trouble or anything?” 

“Nah, not really.” Dean said slowly. He did talk to Seth about trying to squeeze money out of the guy….but Roman was so damn _decent_.

“Hey...come on...I mean...I don’t know much about it.” Roman gestured vaguely. “But um... you have to answer to someone, don’t you?”

“I do.” Dean answered, his voice a little bitter. 

“I’m sorry.” Roman said slowly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Dean swallowed. “Uh….since you asked….five thousand dollars?”

Roman blinked. “Was that asshole paying that for you?”

“Hunter. Not that much...but he is...or was….a….frequent flyer. And I guess he didn’t like being….deprived.” Dean answered honestly.

“That’s a chunk of change, I will admit. But I do have a sizable rainy day fund…”

“You’d really do that for me?” Dean asked, floored.

“Well, I kinda cost you, didn’t I?. Roman asked with a smile.

“Saved me from that asshole more like it.” Dean grumbled..

“A fucked up situation all around, huh. I….it doesn’t seem like this...profession is what you wanted. N-not that I don’t think sex work is work. A-and some people choose it but it….doesn’t seem like you did.” He says awkwardly

Dean stiffens a bit. “I ain’t a charity case. I need the money ‘cause you messed up my _job_.”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Roman says quickly

Dean doesn’t meet his eyes. “When can you get me the money?”

“I can get it tomorrow…” Roman says, feeling like something is slipping from his hands. “I...I’m sorry. I’d like it if you stayed.”

“Knew it was too good to be true. Knight in shining armor and then you want your reward, huh? Play boy in public and hide your dirty little preferences for whores like me.” Dean emerges from his blanket fort, looking furious

“N-no! That’s….dammit….I…”

A slam of the door of Dean’s bedroom cuts him off.

Roman let out a little growl, running his hand through his long hair. “Fuck.”

Opting to let Dean cool off, he decided to leave, wandering a bit morosely to the local branch of his bank. 

The bank teller fawning over him puts him in an even darker mood and he feels even worse getting out cash. But he can’t really afford to have a check out there with his name on it to someone who is a prostitute. And he isn’t sure if Dean has a bank account anyway. Probably not. 

He trudged back to the hotel, going over scenarios in his mind to try to explain what he meant by what he said. But each scenario has Dean _leaving_ and Roman’s heart hurts a little when he thinks about it. It’s stupid feeling like this, he thinks to himself a bit petulantly. And dangerous. His real sexualty isn’t known by many. Things are certainly better in the world, but being an ‘out’ actor still puts up a lot of barriers even if it is “just” being bi, especially for a man. He’s dated a number of women, and very quietly several men...but never “clicked” with anyone so much like with Dean. He’s not proud of hiding himself, but he knows he’d not have the career he had without it.

“This isn’t a fucking fairytale.” He grumbled to himself, getting off the elevator and stomping back to his room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a small chapter, but it is setting up things to come; things will start getting a bit darker. Since this is the last chapter I have fully written updates are going to be slower. My apologies, but unfortunately real life keeps making me adult. As always thanks for reading and commenting. It really makes my day.

He was hopeful he might see Dean finishing the movie when he opened the door to his hotel room when he returned from the bank. Unfortunately the second bedroom’s door was stubbornly shut. 

He sighed, walking over and placing the bank envelope in front of the door.

“....look. I say stupid stuff sometimes...I didn’t mean for anything to sound like I didn’t...didn’t respect you. I...got you the money. You’re free to leave whenever you want. Just...I...I don’t know. I feel like we kinda clicked. And I….I’d like it very much if you stayed.”

There was no answer. Roman sighed and retreated to his room. “Dammit.” He got ready for bed, his heart heavy.

* * *

Roman woke the next morning, stretching and padding into the living room area. He froze a little when he saw the room to the other bedroom open. The envelope of money was gone...the clothes he had gotten for Dean were neatly folded on the bed...he must have left in his own. Roman’s heart sank and he flopped down on the couch. “Fuck.”

Dean stalked down the street, trying to be resolute in his decision to leave, but visions of Roman smiling a goofy smile at him kept worming their way into his head. His pride wouldn’t let him take a softer view of Roman’s words from yesterday, but his absolutely foul mood certainly pointed towards some regret.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to himself, “Don’t wanna get him into any more of the shit I’m already in.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his battered leather jacket to try to save them from the chill air. After about fifteen minutes of walking he ducked down an alley, then pounded on a somewhat graffiti-ed metal door. After a few moments the door opened, an absolute giant of a man with a blonde crew cut eyeing him down.

“Need ta see Heyman.” Dean said, meeting the giant’s eyes calmly.

The giant stared Dean down menacingly, cracking his knuckles loudly.

Dean sighed. “Come on, Brock. I've got money for him.”

Brock gave him one more glower before stepping aside and letting Dean walk past him into a hallway lined here and there with doors.

With practiced familiarity Dean walked to the end of the hallway, knocking on the door to the right.

“Come in.” A voice barks.

Dean opens the door, the envelope of money at the ready. “Heyman.”

“Dean...so good to see you. I was hoping you would come around and explain the altercation that Mr. Hemlsley said he had due to your incompetence.”

Dean winces. “Wasn’t my fault...some do gooder interrupted us. Mostly because Hemlsley was beating the shit outta me. Loudly. So kinda his fault.” 

Heyman tents his fingers on his mahogany desk. “Our clients are accommodated for their various preferences, Mr Ambrose. You know that as well as anyone.”

“I...I brought money.” Dean said quickly, tossing the envelope onto the desk

“Five thousand. Good compensation. However, we have lost some of our reputation due to this. And Mr. Hemsley can be….influential in some circles. I’m afraid some corporal punishment will be required. We have to have consequences, Dean.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ do anything!” Dean growled.

Heyman ignored him, pressing an intercom on his desk. “Brock, please come in.”

“Come on. I got you money...I don’t deserve this!”

Heyman’s lips quirked into a smile. “Mr. Ambrose...by now you should know that the world isn’t fair. I’m a businessman and you have damaged my business. Now you will be damaged. It’s quite simple.”

A quick knock on the door heralded the giant, who looked quite pleased at the situation.

“Now Brock, I know you are not a fan of Dean here...but I don’t want him damaged beyond repair.” Heyman cautioned.

Brock nodded, grabbing Dean’s right arm in a vice like grip and cuffing him hard against the side of the head. Dean grunted, falling to one knee, but Brock dragged him back up, spinning him so they were face to face, then slugging him with a hard right. Dean reeled back, a split lip starting to bleed sluggishly. He squared up, looking ready to do some damage of his own, his eyes sparking with anger.

“Now, now Dean. Do you really think this will end better for you if you fight back?” Heyman said in a disapproving voice.

Dean rolled his shoulders, sneering and spitting blood from his mouth onto the floor. He had a moment of hearing Heyman tsk at that before Brock grabbed his head, bashing it down onto his massive knee. A sharp pain blossomed from his nose and he fell to both knees.

“That’s enough, Brock.” Heyman said absently. “Dean, you may go. Clean yourself up. I’ll have a client for you tomorrow.”

Brock stepped back and Dean got to his knees, stumbling out of the room.

Dean made it outside, unshed tears of anger brimming in his eyes. He hated feeling helpless. 

“Fuck!” He snarled, walking down the alley wiping the blood still dripping from his nose. 

It wasn’t far via subway to his shabby studio apartment, where he grabbed a semi clean towel, holding it to his nose and flopping on his bed. The memory of the heavenly bed in Roman’s suite floated through his mind and he almost choked at the lump forming in his throat.

‘Should have stayed…’ his mind taunted.

“He’s too fuckin’ decent for me. Don’t need him getting dragged down into my shit.Not gonna repay him being nice with fucking up his life.” Dean muttered

‘He would help. He could help fix things.’ his mind said calmly.

Dean promptly found a half bottle of Wild Turkey and let it shut his brain up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay folks. A bit of writers block and a lot of real life interfered. Updates should hopefully be quicker. Thanks for those sticking with me. I appreciate the comments and kudos.

“You _what_?” Squawked Sasha, her eyes wide.

“Look...he was in a bad way...I couldn’t just leave him to get beaten all to hell...or worse.” Roman said tersely, pacing in front of the couch in his hotel room.

“So...you brought a prostitute into your hotel room and let him be seen by some hotel staff? That’s what you called me at eleven in the morning for??”

“They don’t know anything. I’m sure. He took off and...and...I’m worried about him.”

“Worried? You should be! He's' probably off to sell his story to the New York Post! And probably blame you for his wounds! I have to work on some plans for damage control.” Sasha started furiously typing on her phone.

“He’s not like that.” Roman said firmly. “Sasha. Stop. I trust him. I called you because I want someone to look into him. To see if I might be able to help him.”

Sasha stared. “You’ve officially gone off the deep end. I know a couple amazing shrinks in the area. I can set you up with an appointment.”

Roman let out a little growl, running a hand through his hair. “Please….just set it up..”

Sasha sighed. “Ok, ok. I do know a guy. He’s good. Very discrete. It’s Dean Ambrose, right?”

“Yeah. Sasha...thanks. I know it sounds crazy, but I need this.”

“You’re an idiot. But I love ya. And if this really is this important to you…” Sasha sighed again. “I’m going to make some calls, ok? You sit tight. I’ll have the guy contact you with whatever he finds. Name is Finn Balor.”

“Ok. I’ll wait. I can wait. Gonna stick around New York a bit longer.”

“You’re already whipped. Jesus.” 

“I’m not! What the hell, Sasha!” Roman protested petulantly.

“You really care about him, don’t you.” She answered, her teasing tone changing to one of concern.

“I….yeah. Just something about him. If he doesn’t care, that’s ok. I just want him to be safe.”

“Ol’ mother hen Reigns.” Sasha said with a smile. “I’ll get going on it right away.”

Roman blushed. “Thanks Sasha. I owe you.”

“You owe me a lavish beach vacation for this one, mister.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Sasha shook her head, breezing out the door and leaving Roman to pace nervously, wondering if he had gone crazy.

* * *

Dean woke from a boozy doze to the sound of his phone going off. Hazy afternoon light filtered through dingy blinds as he flapped his hand around, finally finding his phone and flipping it open without looking.

“Yeah?”

“Dean. Glad you answered.”

“Seth….what do you want? Heyman said you wouldn’t call till tomorrow.” Dean replied, annoyed.

“Watch your tone with me. This call isn’t about a client. Let’s just say that I got more interested in who your ‘white knight’ was than Paul. Did some digging and let’s say I’ve got a pretty good idea of who it was.”

Dean’s throat went a bit dry. “I doubt you do.” He snapped

“The name Roman Reigns ring a bell?”

“...wasn’t he in that shitty action movie last year?” Dean answered, feigning disinterest.

Seth cackled. “Yep. And from asking around...and following up with Hunter, I know that’s who it was. So you better come clean with me.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about. Even if it was, so what?”

“So what? You know Heyman enjoys a little extortion now and again.” Seth sounded positively gleeful

“I won’t help you. I won’t help you or Heyman with any shit like that.” Dean snarled, his hand tightening around the phone.

“Oh don’t play tough….I doubt Heyman would give you much of a choice. But no, this is a plan for me. Get me some money on the side.”

“I just told you. I won’t help you. Ever.”

“Aww. And here I was going to give you a nice old vanilla guy for a client tomorrow. But now I’m thinking of calling up a few that are more Hunter’s style and seeing if they are interested.”

Dean grit his teeth. “I don’t fucking care. I’m not going to help you blackmail him.”

“We’ll see once you’ve gone through ten times what Hunter did to you.” Seth said smugly. “I’ll call you tomorrow with the details.”

Dean tried to talk back, but Seth had already hung up. He let out a frustrated yell, throwing his phone across the room.

* * *

* * *

Roman paced around the hotel room trying to curb his impatience. It’d been two days since Sasha had said she would call the private detective and he was about to lose it if it took even more time for the guy to get back to him. He’d tried going out, trying to get some pictures that might go in a magazine or two; Sasha loved him trying to pretend that the paparazzi got a candid photo when he’d specifically primped and dressed for it. Unfortunately the only picture that made it anywhere came with the headline of “Roman Reigns looking worried? Possible argument with Paltrow after missing her charity gala!” After that he opted to mostly stay at the hotel, trying to work out some worries at the exclusive VIP gym. But now pacing felt like pretty much his only option. He thought about calling Sasha and asking for the detectives number, but he’d already bothered her a couple times today, pouring out way more of his worries than he should have. He’d also called his cousins Jimmy and Jey, who after snorting with laughter over him falling for Dean, were actually pretty supportive and offered to fly up from Florida if there was something they could do to help. He’d declined for the time being, but now wished he had them to distract him. He glanced at his phone, which serendipitously started to ring. He snapped it up in a second.

“Mr. Reigns? This is Finn Balor.” A heavily accented voice said through the speaker.

“Thank god. What have you come up with? Is Dean ok?” Roman asked quickly, butterflies forming in his stomach.

The voice turned warmer. “I do have quite a bit of information for you. Sasha gave me your hotel information. I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Please. Yes.” Roman said, cheeks going a little pink at his own eagerness

“I’ll be there shortly.” 

Roman put the phone down, now feeling like he was going to blow up into a million pieces. 

“Quite a bit of information…” He muttered to himself. All he wanted was for the scruffy, pretty, rough and tumble man to be ok. But something made him feel like they were both walking into more trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean slumped against the wall of his dingy shower, the water as hot as he could stand it. Now and again a hint of pink would join the clear water swirling down the drain. He wanted to scream, cry, punch the wall...but all he had energy for was to let the water clean through the various cuts and bruises over his body. Seth had been true to his word, getting two of his more extreme clients for Dean to please. Seth had let him have the day off, sneering that even his most brutal clients would want Dean a little healed up.

Finally the water ran clear for several minutes and he stumbled out of the shower, taking a few minutes to dry himself with a scratchy towel, falling onto his bed and letting sleep take him.

* * *

Meanwhile Roman, lost in his own thoughts, jumped when there was a firm knock at his door. Peering through the keyhole he saw a man that fit Balor’s description; and opening the door he ushered the smaller man inside.  
“Mr. Reigns, good to meet you. I’m Finn Balor.” The dark haired man said, shaking Roman’s hand in a friendly manner.

“Yes, good to meet you.” Roman gestured to the dining area table. “Let’s sit. Please tell me what you’ve found.”

Finn sat, pulling a file folder out of his briefcase and spreading the contents over the table. “Dean Ambrose...born to Jill and Thomas Ambrose in Cincinnati Ohio. Thomas doesn’t seem to have been a nice guy. Couple police reports for domestic violence, was imprisoned for almost killing a man during a bar brawl when Dean was fourteen. At this point Jill divorced him and moved back here to New York to stay with her mother; bringing Dean with her. Thomas died in prison when Dean was seventeen. Not much I could pull up about Dean’s time in New York for a number of years. There are a few arrests for shoplifting...got caught as part of a sting on an underground fighting ring when he was twenty-two. He seems to have straightened out a bit after that. Got a job as a bouncer in a bar in Queens. Two years ago his mom was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Seems like they sold everything to pay for her treatments.”

“That’s terrible. I hate he had to go through all that.”

Finn nodded. “Here is where it gets dicey. Had to go to some old contacts for this information. Looks like they were desperate for more money to pay for treatments. Dean reached out to the guy who ran the underground fighting ring who got him in touch with Paul Heyman. Heyman gave him a loan at some seriously terrible interest. He got more and more behind on payments...Heyman ‘suggested’ that Dean work for him. Dean has been working for him for about nine months now.”

“Who is this Heyman guy?” Roman asked, his fists clenching

“Paul Heyman…” Finn pointed to a picture of a man smiling smugly at the camera. “A businessman, for lack of a better word. Has some legitimate businesses-a construction company, a series of high end nightclubs. Hell, you might have been in some of them. But he also deals in drugs, flesh, weapons...pretty much anything he can get his hands on. As the cliché goes, he is quite friendly with the chief of police and the mayor. I’m sure some money changes hands behind closed doors a lot for Mr. Heyman.”

“And Dean is caught up with this guy? He’s in more trouble than I thought.” Roman said, his heart sinking.

“Mr. Reigns...I know this may sound cruel. But Mr. Heyman is not one to tussle with. He has friends in high and low places. His god is profit, and if you mess with something or someone that’s earning him money...it won’t end well.”

“He likes profit, right? I’ll pay off whatever Dean owes. Make him free and clear from that asshole.”

“He’s also vindictive, Mr. Reigns. Not sure he’d want to give up ‘punishing’ someone who didn’t pay him back on time.” Finn cautioned. 

“I’ve got to try at least. I’m going to get him out of this one way or another.” Roman growled, envisioning himself ripping off the head of the man in the picture.

Finn sighed. “Well I wish you luck.”

“Could you get me a meeting with him? Through your contacts? Somewhere discreet.” 

“I’ll see what I can do. Give you a call this afternoon. I’ll leave these documents for you.” Finn stood, shaking Roman’s hand and turning to walk to the door. He paused. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Roman clenched his fists at his side. “Absolutely.”

* * *

Dean woke several hours later, his body aching. He groaned, pulling himself to his feet and managing to scrounge a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of water. Sitting on his bed he ate, trying to make a plan. 

“Can’t deal with that many more of Seth’s friends.” He muttered to himself. 

But what option did he have? Heyman let him keep enough money to pay rent and buy a little food, but he had next to nothing besides that. Running wasn’t much of an option. They knew where his mom lived and he’d die before he’d let them get within twenty feet of her. He blinked back tears angrily, realizing the futility of his situation. 

“Not gonna sell him out. He deserves better.” He mumbled, his heart aching a little remembering Roman gently cleaning his wounds in the hotel days ago. The walls felt like they were closing in around him; he let out a shaky sigh, dressing and limping outside to walk the busy streets...needing to go somewhere...anywhere to get away from his thoughts.

* * *

Roman listlessly watched some soap opera on tv, waiting to hear from Finn. He resisted the impulse to just go out and find Dean. He had the address from Finn, but he was hesitant to do anything before he could get his freedom and use it as an olive branch. Surely Dean would understand it was without strings. He never wanted Dean to feel beholden to him. Roman sighed. How could he make sure Dean knew he would never look down on him...never had during their brief time together. Even if Dean never wanted to see him again, his heart would be light knowing he wasn’t suffering at the hands of someone like Paul Heyman. 

He fumbled with his phone when it rang, answering it breathlessly.

“Mr. Reigns. Pulled some strings with a few friends. Mr. Heyman has agreed to meet you at his office at five.”

Roman checked his Rolex. “In two hours. I’ll be there.” He jotted down the address Finn gave him.

“.....He’s a shark….please be careful.” Finn said slowly.

“Don’t worry. I’ve swum with sharks before.” Roman said, his voice just short of a growl. “I’ll be okay.”

“Good luck.” answered Finn, not sounding very convinced.

Roman hung up the phone, feeling nervous. He dialed Sasha, sighing when he got voicemail. It would have been a comfort if he could have had her by his side. He left a quick message and decided to step into the shower. He shaved a few errant hairs from his face and decided on wearing his sharpest suit. He called for a chauffeur driven Mercedes, pacing the hotel room until it arrived, his mind in a whirl. He hardly remembered going downstairs and getting into the car, but found himself being driven through the streets of New York, stopping at an opulent building far removed from the office where Dean had met the same businessman. Adjusting his tie, Roman stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath before walking into the building.


End file.
